As Long As Our Shadows Remain Hidden
by Hoshi Nagaiki
Summary: HPxDNxYYH Eleven year old Harry Potter finds himself at an orphanage for gifted children. . . .Something weird's going on here. It's up to the Spirit World to sort this out! MelloMatt
1. Prologue

12/7/08

**As Long As Our Shadows Remain Hidden**

**By Hoshi Nagaiki**

_**Prologue**_

_**Only Sometimes**_

Our minds were ready but our hearts were not.

Hidden in the dark, neglected corners lay our ignorant, childish insecurities.

We had thought them to be completely destroyed.

But even the most intelligent are wrong sometimes.

And, _sometimes_, those mistakes cost you everything you knew and everything you had, even yourself.

Occasionally, my mind still wanders back to the night we lost everything. My memories aren't as clear as they used to be, but there is one thing I remember clearly. Our enemies had known more than expected, and I still remember muttering the words, "If only. . ." If only they had not known. If only, we had not been betrayed.

Without fears, we would have been invincible.

They were our only obstacles.

And, our biggest weaknesses.

For such a long time, I searched for ways to obliterate them but found none. Those years were wasted in foolish research. I tried everything I could think of, but none of it was good enough. My failure sank me into a deep depression. It wasn't until years later, when I was on the brink of insanity, the realization dawned on me: those fears, those insecurities made us who we were and they would never leave us. Not until the sun failed to expose the shadows.


	2. Schedule

12/7/08

**As Long As Our Shadows Remain Hidden**

**By Hoshi Nagaiki**

_**Death Note Arc**_

_**Chapter One**_

_**Schedule**_

"You will never win!"

Shouting at someone was immature and inappropriate, but at the moment I did not care. Life sometimes calls for breaks in which you can stop acting like a responsible adult and just be a kid. A usual occurrence would be when you really are a kid like I am. Most of the time I do not embrace my age of eleven and a half and try to remain the three Cs: calm, cool, and collected. However, there are sometimes where I can become irrational, emotional, and most of all competitive. Like I am now.

As I stand before my opponent, Nate Rivers, better known as Near, I cannot help but feel the heat rising in me. Never have I wanted to win so badly. Though we have competed many times before (each time unfortunately resulting in a loss for me), my chances of victory have never been so high. Pride escalates within me. A smug smile takes its place on my face.

_Let the games begin!_

My competitor and I turn from each other to face the screens in front of us. The settings are appropriately adjusted. The song starts. Our feet begin flying across the mat. The name of the game is Dance Dance Revolution, or DDR. Near does not stand a chance.

Whilst we play, my thoughts drift to that of my beloved, the one beside me, the one always with me, the one always here for me, the one that holds my heart: my chocolate. Imagining it in my mouth so succulent, so sweet is tormenting me. How I wish it was there now. Drool escapes from my mouth.

Focus: lost. Dignity: lost. Game: lost.

I wish to challenge him again but I do not. Too much has been lost today. The word _failure _seeps into my mind again. I mutter a "good game" to Near in hopes of not losing to him in sportsmanship either and make a dash to my room.

_I need chocolate!_

Upon arrival, I see Matt. He lies on his bed, video game in hand. He takes no notice of me, and I take none of him. Both of us are too preoccupied with a very important task. Matt: defeating some video game. Me: eating chocolate from my secret stash underneath my bed and trying to think of ways to once and all defeat Near.

Our days usually pass like this. In about five minutes, Matt will defeat his game and ask me what happened today. I will tell Matt about my loss, and he will try to make me feel better. Our lives run on a monotonous schedule. It grows tiresome but no one complains. There is security knowing every event of every day of every week of every month of every year. Though some desire a more spontaneous, unpredictable lifestyle, no one wants change. L does not like change. Strangely, their reason for not changing is why Matt says he wants to change.

Matt does not particularly like change: he just desires to be different and he is. Everyone wants to grow up and become the next L, even me, but when I asked Matt about his plans for the future, he told me he would be himself. Being L is a stupid, misled dream according to him.

Sometimes, I think Matt deserves to be L's successor just because his brilliance differentiates him from everyone else, but Matt would not take the job if it was offered to him. He might tell them to give it to me instead, but they would probably choose Near.

Matt really loathes the possibility of becoming L. So much, in fact, that sometimes I think he stays third in line because he wants to, not because that's really where he belongs. I think if he wanted to he could crush Near and me.

"So, what happened?"

The game lies forgotten on his bed, obviously defeated. Now, his attention focuses on me and only me, the game he will never conquer.

I tell him the story. He listens attentively to it. Occasionally, he brushes his red hair out of his goggle-covered eyes and nods his head at the suitable times. After I have finished, his eyes- I'm not even sure what color they are since they always hide behind unnecessary protective eye wear- wander to me and lie there pensively before the reply comes like the lightning before the thunder.

"Why do you always try to beat him, Mello?"

Just like the cat, curiosity causes him to do stupid things, like not stay to the schedule. I can think of only one reply to this and hopes he will understand.

"Why do you always have to beat your games, Matt?"

"Near is a game to you?" Matt pronounces the words more like a question than a statement. His eyes are on me, eagerly awaiting my response.

"Just like I am a game to you."

Silence falls upon the room for a few moments. Matt sits completely still on his mattress lost in thought. I take to messing with my golden hair. First, I brush it out of my eyes. Then, I move it from side to side, smooth it down with my hands, and soon begin twirling it around my fingers like a little girl. By the second, I am becoming more and more bored. I reach under my bed for another chocolate bar when Matt speaks.

"Life is a game."

I want to contradict him, tell him that it is a nothing like that. You can't just start over when you make a mistake. There are no redoes in life. When the game is over, it's really over. My chance to correct him is stolen away as our door swings open to reveal a pretty blonde girl named Linda. Her eyes pass completely over me to gaze longingly at Matt. A smile appears on her face and a twinkle in her hazel eyes.

"There's a new student. Roger wants us all downstairs to welcome him."

It's as if she speaks only to Matt. Annoyance escalates to a dangerous level. I'm not sure why though. Perhaps, it's because Matt gets all the attention from girls or maybe I just don't want my best friend to be taken from me. Whatever it is, I answer before Matt can.

"We'll be there in a minute."

Linda turns to look at me, a frown on her face. I smirk. She nods and exits the room leaving Matt and me alone.

Matt watches me inquisitively as I remove myself from my bed still smirking.

"Well, let's go."

It is customary at Whammy's for everyone to gather in the foyer each time a new person arrives so we can welcome them. New kids don't arrive very often so it is always a special thing when some do.

As Matt and I approach, we find ourselves the last ones there. Roger begins his usual speech for whenever a new kid joins us about how we will all respect him and be nice and friendly towards him. During the speech, I see Linda staring at a completely oblivious Matt. Ignoring this, I stand on my tiptoes to try to see the new boy. I can't get a good view because most of the older students stand in front of me. From what I can see, he is around the same age as Matt and me. His hair is messy and black, and he wears big round glasses that are held together by tape. He is an unhealthy skinny and his ragged, overly baggy clothes make him look more so.

Roger tells him to introduce himself.

In a low, nervous voice, he stumbles over his words. I can barely hear him, but I do catch his name and age.

_Harry Potter. Age 11._

From that moment on, our lives never followed a schedule again.


	3. That Damn Harry Potter

**As Long As Our Shadows Remain Hidden**

**By Hoshi Nagaiki**

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing_

**A/N: **_Chapter two is here! Yay! Please read and review_

_**Chapter Two**_

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing here?" I growl at that new Harry Potter kid as he walks into _my_room with his one crappy bag.

He halts in the doorway, green eyes wide. I smirk inwardly; I've scared him.

"Now, Mells, play nice." Matt holds in laughter. I can tell by the bemused grin on his half-covered face. "It's okay, Harry, right?"--Harry nods here--, "my good friend, here, has next to no people skills."

Harry smiles slightly.

"Why are you smiling?!" I demand, but I am ignored as Matt continues on. "My name's Matt, by the way, and the social awkward here is Mello. So, why are you in our room again?"

"Roger told me I'd be staying in this room," Harry told his feet.

"Cool. You can have the extra bed. Let me just clear that off for you." Matt tilts the mattress to the side and an avalanche of crap hits the ground next to it.

"But, that was our junk bed!" I protest as I watch one of my boxes of chocolate collide with the ground.

"Well, now it's Harry's bed."

Harry continues to smile as he walks over to his new bed and begins to unpack.

"Need any help?" Matt offers.

Harry declines politely and Matt sits back down and commences in playing one of his video games.

For the rest of the night, I inconspicuously watch Harry settle himself into _my _room, whilst I pout in the corner and gorge on my chocolate. All his belongings are shabby. His clothes are too big. He hardly says anything. But, he seems happy. I don't like him. This room belongs to me. And Matt. This Harry Potter kid shouldn't be allowed to intrude on our personal space.

I glance at Matt. He's engrossed in a game as always. How can he just accept this so easily? Doesn't he want this room just to be ours? Now, we'll never be alone ever again.

Drifting to sleep, weird thoughts begin to permeate my brain. Harry's stolen my chocolate from the secret stash underneath my bed; I must get it back. I tackle him to the wooden floor in my room. I kick and punch the best I can until I'm sure he's dead and can't harm my chocolate. When I have my chocolate again, I realize he's not dead. I haven't even injured him at all. He challenges me to a duel which I eagerly accept.

We stand back to back outside on the field; sticks grasped firmly in our hands. When I turn around, I open my mouth to say something, but my mouth gapes wide open. Instead of Harry, Near stands before me, a terrific giant. In his hand, an equally large toy sword swings at me. I attempt to knock it away with my now pathetic-looking stick but to no avail.

Near has defeated me.

Then, I am in bed. Though comfortable physically, my spirit's wounds run too deep. No bandages or gauze can help me now. Dejectedly, I sit up to face the light but instead face Matt hovering over my body. For once, no goggles cover his face. Awestruck by the radiance of an angel's face, I nearly fall back, but Matt caresses my head preventing any collapse my body may try to experience.

"You take things too seriously, Mihael," Matt soothes using a name I do not recall him ever using.

I want to make a note of this to him, but he drags my lips towards him and presses down softly. Surprisingly, I do not object. I like the tingle that flows all through my body, giving me wings. Soaring like the birds, we are all that exist, and I cherish it. Too quickly his lips disappear along with my wings and my blissfulness. Earth's horrible reality embraces me again and I shudder.

Upon opening my eyes, Matt's face still inhabits my vision; I blush. Smirking and pink-tinted, Matt utters his last words.

"I win."

--

Groggily opening my eyes, I glance over at Matt's sleeping figure and blush remembering my dream. How could I have dreamed something like that about Matt? He's my best friend, but I'm not gay. Well, it was just a dream and dreams don't mean anything.

Matt looked really different without his goggles though. I would like to see that again. And, I can. I glance at Harry, who is also fast asleep. Now would be the perfect time with both of them asleep.

I creep over to Matt's bed and stare at his sleeping, goggle-clad figure. Carefully, I begin to remove the goggles. He doesn't notice. Once they are away from his eyes, I see the beauty they conceal once again. Flustered, an overwhelming urge grows in my body the way the fizz from the soda rises to the top once you shake it a bit. If I don't let it out who knows what will happen, so I kiss him. Long, soft, passionate, and he never even stirs.

My dream can in no way compare to the actual sensation of the kiss. I can soar so I soar. Everything that chains me down disappears. Matt and I are all that are left. If I had known any of this was possible before, I would have taken advantage of it.

However, my emotional high soon ends when I hear a small whimper and I glancd to see what has happened. Harry has rolled over in his sleep. Damn, that Harry. I loathe him more now. I hurry back to bed in case he wakes up, but he doesn't.

For the rest of the night, I think about Matt, and his beauty until I waft into more pleasant dreams.

The next morning before we leave our rooms I ask Matt why he always wears goggles, and if he was ever going to take them off.

He shrugs.

"If I ever do take them off, the world will end."

**End Chapter Two.**


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